TF2 Short Stories
by ShortStoryWarrior
Summary: A collection of short stories from I probably won't update this that often, but I'm always thinking of it! Not much else to .. .. Enjoy ! Rated T just to be safe ;) Random cover image for the heck of it, and I don't own it ;) Credit to whoever does!


Looking down at his blood-stained hands, the Spy thought back to his life before fighting. Back in France, he didn't have many friends. It wasn't like he was disliked or anything, he just wasn't a people person. He did have some friends, though. He'd sneak up on them on the playground or, once they'd grown out of the playground, the halls of school. He mastered theatre and electronics. It was much, much easier back then. Now, he's grown up and fighting. He hasn't acted on stage in 20 years. He hasn't seen his friends in 15, if they were still considered his friends. Now he only has eight, the other men he fights with. He sighed, gunfire rattling his eardrums. His watch beeped at him as he activated the "Cloak" feature. He ran out of the BLU fort and onto the bridge, stopping only to jump off the edge and into the water below. The Cloak fizzed out as he hit the water, which was what was to be expected. He swam into the sewers on his side - he needed to seriously sit down and think.

Stepping out of the water and brushing off what the RED Spy mocked as a "cheap suit" started him on his way into deep thoughts. He was such a hated man within the confines of the battle field. He was hated by the opposite Engineer, Sniper, Spy, and even the Scout. What was fighting really worth? _Money_, he reminded himself. _Lots of money. You sap the buildings, you knife the enemies, you make fun of them, then you do it again. You cause pain and death because it's your job. And don't forget the pain they cause you! Getting ripped apart by the Heavy's bullets, being victim to the Scouts concussive baseballs, getting stuck by those damn needles from the Medic's dinky little medicine-gun. _

_ My team looks out for me, though. I may not be the strongest class, but I'm certainly something with my disguise kit and my cloaking watch and the sappers I have an endless supply of. My beautiful Ambassador, and my trusty Butterfly knife. Me and the Sniper sharing stories over a smoke,_ he thought, a small shadow of a smile dancing over his lips. _Yeah, I want that_.

"Follow me, Doktor! Ve go togezer!" The Heavy's booming voice echoed throughout the cement sewer. The Medic's German response followed and added to the echo, and the sound of boots trudging through water backed up the air of certain doom now present in the sewer. Spy's heart rate increased, his heart a living, beating drum. One shot to even startle it and he'd be dead, mocked, then added to the queue for respawn. He was very weakened, already full of lead. He stood up quietly and met the men as they came around the corner.

"Peak-a-boo," he said in a hushed voice, scaring the sense out of the Heavy. The Medic started yelling German cuss works as the Heavy accidentally pushed him over. Spy breathed deep and removed his hands from his sides, allowing the man with the big gun a clear shot. Their eyes met, one pair calm, the other pair loaded with fury. A flurry of gunshots later, and the owner of the calm pair was dead.

As spy opened his eyes, he was standing in a grassy field. Close by him, Scout was playing baseball with some kids, his shirt clean and free of the blood it usually was covered in. The Pyro was sitting in the grass with his head held in his hands, simply looking at the clear blue sky as the Demoman recited his work tales to his mother. The Sniper, a little farther away, was listening to music in his Camper Van, hat over his eyes with his feet propped up on the dash. The Soldier was blowing into his Bugle playing old military tunes. The Medic was laughing and talking to his bird, Archimedes, as he hopped around the grass. Heavy was tending to his minigun and talking to it in Russian. Spy smiled sadly. _This must be what everyone does back at home, or these are their little fantasies after they die and are waiting for respawn,_ he thought._ I never really had one of those_. As he looked around, he felt a slight tap on his shoulder. He turned around and there stood the Engineer, holding a bottle of BLU Streak beer. He gave it to Spy, a smile on his face.

"You got a team that cares for you, son. Don't ever doubt that." When Spy looked back, Scout waved at him, smiling and laughing as little kids crowded around his legs, begging for another game.

He turned back to the Engi.

"Thank you, Engineer."

"Don't mention it." Suddenly, the Engineer started to get fuzzy around his edges, blurring into the blue sky. Spy shook his head, he didn't want to leave. There was nothing he could do but shake his head, his body refusing to let him talk.

"See ya on the battlefield, partner." Spy closed his mouth and turned around to watch his friends fade away, then he simply stared ahead as he blurred away, too.

When the floor materialized underneath him, the Spy stepped forward. A small smile was present on his face as he pulled out the Red-Tape Recorder. He adjusted some dials on it and pressed play. He listened to the words that came from the grey box.

"Let's make some noise."

_**Hi!**_

_**I hope you liked my first story on this profile! It's slightly unpolished because I wrote this at around 12:00am a few weeks ago.**_

_**So yeah.**_

_**Should I do more?**_

_**-SSW**_


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